End of Summer and The Power of Not Screwing Up

Still feeling slightly more irritable and paranoid than I previously had for the last few days. Having a false fire alarm in my apartment complex over the weekend didn’t help to ease tension much. All it accomplished was getting me out of the house for a couple hours during the heat of the afternoon. That was over the weekend and I have essentially kept a low profile since. It’s been too hot to do much else. But fall will be here in a few weeks as will cooler days and chilly nights.

Haven’t really kept in contact with friends and family as much as I normally do. But then, I guess I don’t have much to report. My life has been uneventful other than trying to avoid drama and keeping the creeping symptoms of the illness at bay. I pretty much sleep ten hours a day now, not that I want to but I know I need to. Otherwise I might be having more issues.

I still have another few traditionally tough weeks ahead before things will settle into a more normal and calming routine. For now I’m taking things day by day and not really looking too far ahead. I’m just deep into routine on top of routine now. About the only thing I don’t like about being an adult is that it’s practically impossible to socialize with old friends and family. And of course good luck making new friends at this point in life. Everyone I know that would have similar interests are either busy with families or work life. I’ve lost contact with lots of friends this way. Some I haven’t heard from for a few years and then the next thing I hear is that they’re divorced and starting over. Or they got laid off from a job and they still have student loans and kids to raise. To people like this I feel kind of guilty in that I don’t have that level of drama or issues. Sometimes I feel like an outcast because I didn’t make decisions like marrying the wrong person, having kids I couldn’t afford, or taking a job that got automated or outsourced. But if miserly loves company, than wisdom is the loneliest. And I don’t even consider myself that successful or accomplished. My only real accomplishments I’ve had are avoiding major life crippling mistakes and making my peace with my life of mental illness. It’s not like I had several kids, make massive amounts of money, or have a lot of positive influence and prestige. I just managed to avoid serious screwups. But I guess there is a great deal of power in freedom in not messing up.